Archive for the metadiscourse Category

Sorry for the lack of recent updates! Damn drunken stupors again! Keep checking back; I have been corresponding with a young lady who hooked up with a master pickup artist, and will have a new post tomorrow-ish.

In the meantime, did you guys read that article about the San Francisco sex commune, where everyone gets up at 7 in the morning to do something called “morning practice,” and it means that guys, like, finger the women to orgasm? Salon.com has a post titled “So What’s Wrong With a Commune Devoted to Female Orgasm?” Well, it sounds hell of boring, that’s what’s wrong with it! What’s the point of a sex commune if there’s no fucking and no ass slappin’? And for that matter, why does it have to begin so early? If I were in that meditation session, would go right back to sleep, without achieving any enlightenment or “hydration of the self” at all.

Who likes sex more, men or women? An ancient Greek dude would tell you would tell you that women enjoy it, like, a thousand times more. (If you need confirmation, just check out this myth — yes, Sophocles fans, it explains why Tiresias the blind prophet has boobs in Oedipus Rex.) But if you pose the same question to the average person in today’s late capitalist society, they’ll tell you just the opposite. Males, they will say, are single-minded because they’re biologically driven to pursue sex. Devoid of finer feelings, they comport themselves in much the same manner as sperm competing for an egg. So simple are males, so in their quest for poontang, that they offer nothing to the analytical mind. “It’s a waste of time trying to understand US!”, men will say. “We’re all dogs!”

By contrast, this theory (call it the “men are horny, women are corny” proposition) paints females as complex and mysterious — their sexuality a mere facade, a smokescreen behind which lurks a roiling turmoil of feelings, thoughts, and finely-calibrated emotional needs. Oh, no! That sounds so boring! But can the theory be true?

I say no. And it turns out insight into male complexity can come from surprising places. Case in point: the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. I used to have a big problem with this magazine. The reason why is obvious: I considered it intellectually dishonest. Masturbating isn’t really a sport. (Insert 50,000 jokes here about sports injuries, mouthguards, shin splints, balls, bats, nets, baskets, bases and home runs, pentathlons, varsity vs. junior varsity-level athletes, what you played in high school, what you played at summer camp, shuttlecocks, bowling pins, fencing masks, boxing gloves, ping-pong tables, and cheerleading.) If pornography is what you want — my reasoning went — go to the porno shop and buy some! You’re not fooling anyone! Do you think you’re too upper-middle-class to go to the Hustler store? God, you’re so bourgeois!

Who cares, though, really? The magazine provides work for models in today’s challenging economy, and it’s good for the Jews because there’s an Israeli on the cover. More important, though, is what happened when I mentioned this objection to my friend Isaac. He had something interesting to say: “For some men,” he explained, “that’s part of the turn-on.” Appreciating the magazine in a sexual way comes with more of a perverse, illicit thrill because “it’s not really ‘for’ that.” The women seem innocent and unsuspecting. And “believe it or not, boobs have to have a context, even for guys.”

Boobs with a context

Oh, I believe it. What an unexpected nuance! But for every worldly man like Isaac, there are ten guys who want to reduce human sexuality to black and white. The subject of today’s story kept insisting that men and women are fundamentally different, because in the world of sex, “women choose, men are chosen.” Does his story bear out that claim? Let’s find out.

“Sigmund” is a Jew from New Jersey. He grew up in New York and moved to L.A. as a young man to pursue acting. In 2002, he met “Cherry” in a bar where he worked. They got friendly because they were co-workers. “She was cute, like an ice cream cone.” They had all kinds of rapport because they had the same favorite movie (The Karate Kid). Also, “I taught her how to text.” During that historical epoch, most people were confused by text messaging; having mastered the skill demonstrated that he was an alpha male.

His strategy bore fruit a few weeks later, when Cherry was out on a date with some other guy, but was “texting me through the date.” It’s unclear what the matter was with the date. “It didn’t even suck, I was just better.”

So inevitably, he asked her out. He rented both the Karate Kid movies and she walked over to his apartment, because they both lived in East Hollywood. They got halfway through the sequel before they started making out. After a while she was like “I have to go home,” and he drove her home. But then they had sex on another date a few days later, on the same movie-watching sofa. (“I slayed many on that couch.”)

He was wearing a black crew-neck shirt, Levi’s, and Vans, with muttonchop sideburns and long curly hair.

Black t-shirt

Slip-on Vans

They kept on dating for six months. In this story, Sigmund defeated his male rival and won the girl, so it looks pretty good for his sperm-and-egg theory. But what if we look closer? Cherry must have really liked this guy, because it seems like she went out of her way to make him jealous. Going out on a stupid date with another dude she didn’t really like, then sneaking away every 10 minutes to text him? It totally worked, though. Guys, look at how much effort it takes to seduce you. You can’t be all that simple.

Yes, sarcastically wishing venereal diseases on people is an hilarious Valentine’s Day tradition. Seriously, though, don’t get V.D. I should have a holiday story or inspiring message for you, but I don’t. Instead, a question. I am thinking of starting a CTGML Facebook group thingy, to publicize the site and maybe somehow increase readership. We could have, like, a discussion board where we plan outfits and stuff. Do you think this is a good idea?

From now on, I will still be blogging here of course, but will also be blogging for this fine publication. You might want to check it out if you are interested in nerdy minutia about what’s going on in my town, but some of the posts will be clothing-related. For example, I have one up right now about how much I hate it when guys wear fedoras. Less relevantly, but more importantly, I also did one about my sadness that Ron Asheton of the Stooges died. Rest in peace, dude.

I will be back tomorrow-ish with an hilarious story about one young woman’s scandalous Halloween hookup. But right now, I think it’s important for us to keep an eye on interesting developments in the world of print magazines. And recently, one feature in particular caught my eye. No, it’s not the “Stylish & Sexy Guide” in the February issue of Lucky, although I did think about that. It purports to be a guide (for women) to the most “alluring,” sexy clothes — with outfits picked out by a bunch of straight chicks!* What kind of methodology is that? LOL, real scientific, Lucky. What would Charles Darwin say? Anyway, I wanted to find out if the lesbians and straight dudes among my readers really found these looks alluring, but they don’t put their articles online, so I can’t show you them. If you’ve seen the print edition, please share your thoughts.

(*Yes, I know women’s mags always do this, but it seemed particularly unlike Lucky; most of their fashion write-ups say things like “this caftan has a bohemian-ish, Morocco vibe that makes me feel like I’m drinking kombucha inside an embroidered tent!” They don’t much seem to care about sex appeal, in general.)

Anyway, what I really wanted to talk about is the Glamour magazine cover story titled “The #1 Thing That Makes Sex Very, Very Good!” This cover line caught my eye when I first started seeing it on the newsstands several weeks ago; but I just assumed it was about spanking, so I never bothered to open it.

??

Then yesterday, I was waiting in line at the grocery store, and I decided to pick up the magazine and make sure. I found out what The #1 Thing really is, and it’s — I was astounded — can you guess? — you’ll scarcely believe it — the #1 Thing is waiting to have sex. It’s a whole article about how, like, if you wait a long time to start screwing, your sex will end up being really great. They interviewed a bunch of couples who talk about what a good time they had, waiting to have sex. I about sprained something, I rolled my eyes so hard.

Anyway, I’m totally through with Glamour magazine now. What would be a good idea, I think, is to conduct some polling and find out what people are really up to {UPDATE, please don’t obsess about the correct way to conceptualize “waiting to have sex”; someday I will commission a much more scientific version of poll #1 that does away with all uncertainties} .

After the exchange that followed my last post, I really want to know if Charles Darwin got some poontang after he got home from the voyage of the Beagle. If that happened today, you know girls would be spreadin’. Compared to that, being in the faggotty-ass Peace Corps or some shit wouldn’t be worth beans. Just imagine: Some hippie is all trying to impress a girl, telling her how much he learned about himself in the Peace Corps; and then Charles Darwin walks into the room, as cool as a cucumber, and starts telling how he spent five years camping out in Tierra del Fuego and Tahiti, collecting specimens and conducting hydrographic surveys and revolutionizing biology. It would be all over. He wouldn’t even need to be wearing a fancy waistcoat. It strikes me that in the past, distinguished men of science got kind of a raw deal.

Foxy redhead!

We can’t, however, all be irrepressable pussy-magnets like Darwin was. This world is full of regular, hard-working folks who ain’t even ever revolutionized a fantasy baseball league. Those people — “real Americans” — are who(m) this website is for. So I’m going to offer you guys some tips I was offered recently while I was chatting with “Darren,” a sophisticated older man who seemed to know what he was talking about. (He also told me an extremely scandalous anecdote about meeting some women while honky-tonkin’; maybe I’ll write it up as a post if I can ever decipher my notes.)

Tips for guys:

— “Be selective of your button-down shirts.”

— “Shop like a girl” by trying everything on, instead of just picking up your size. He adds that if you like something but it doesn’t fit quite right, “don’t be afraid to alter.” This is solid advice, because chicks hate it when your clothes are ill-fitting.

— “Don’t look like you just got a haircut.” This means your hair is supposed to look natural and lived-in, even if you did just get a haircut. If this very concept sounds like a paradox that is blowing your mind, it could mean that your stylist is crappy.

Tip for ladies:

— “I think there’s a lot of guys that like opaque stockings.” I advised him that these are often referred to as “tights.”

Unisex tip:

— In a store, “you can learn how to change price tags.” Shopping on a budget! I neither endorse nor denounce this practice.

There you have it. For everyone who didn’t get laid in 2008, I am wishing you the best of luck in the new year. Go get ’em! But if you’ve been getting lucky already, please submit your New Year’s Eve CTGML tales to me.

*******SPECIAL APOLOGY: I’m sorry I referred to the Peace Corps as “faggotty.” I don’t know what I could have been thinking.

This may be a bit off-topic, but here it is: I’m tired of everyone saying how because there’s a new edition of The Joy of Sex, the original edition is obsolete now and everyone should go replace it (Huffington Post, someother dudes). One writer says that it’s “time to update” if you still have the old version. Yes indeed, readers, you do need to “update” if you possess a book that was written earlier than 2008. Otherwise, you face many dangers — you might find its archaic prose style to be laughable, or you might encounter an opinion that has become unpopular. Also, the book’s original author never mentions the internet. Real prescient, Alex Comfort, M.D.! How am I supposed to learn about sex if there’s no section on how the internet is changing our lives?

Look, America. The original Joy of Sex is great. It teaches you that “there are two sorts of sexual joy — having a full orgasm with a person you value, and being a total person yourself” (LOL, truest statement ever), and it has sexy color drawings of people who don’t have all their natural body hair shaved off. However, it was written in the 70s, and it might contain ideas you do not agree with. Why not read the book, and then decide which parts you like, and which parts you don’t like? Not to sound like some dumbass Ian McKaye fan, butthink for yourselves, you complacent sheeple!

If your loved one does not own the original Joy of Sex, CTGML is declaring it our hot holiday 2008 gift recommendation. You can probably find it in a used bookstore. This book would be especially useful if you need to plan fun activities for all eight nights of Chanukah. Make sure to get both volumes, because More Joy of Sex has better pictures. (I couldn’t find the illustrations online, but here’s this.)

Postscript: At first I didn’t want to place any blame on this new author, “Susan Quilliam,” whose book I have not seen (I heard it had pictures in it of scrawny indie rockers fucking , so I stayed away). But today I was doing some research on my computer, and I learned that Quilliam advises people to, in one journalist’s words, “[not] get hung up on grammar and spelling” when they’re having e-mail sex. That is the worst advice I have ever heard in my entire life. If someone sent me a sex e-mail with incorrect grammar and spelling, I would never correspond with them again.

A few weeks ago (During the election! It seems so long ago — like a dream, almost) I tried to stir up trouble with an insulting post about Joe the Plumber. My remarks about this important American political figure concerned his bad clothes, his irrational hatred of a three percent tax hike, and what I perceived as his desperate need for some pussy. I hoped people (starting with Joe himself) would get mad, and the political blogosphere would start buzzing about my website.

Possibly JtP is less of an egomaniac than I thought, because that never happened. But yesterday I managed to start a controversy anyway! A classy lady at Salon.com argues that my blog is “stupid” and “annoying” because it promotes materialism. Do I have an ongoing beef with Salon now? Are second-wave feminists even more thin-skinned and irritable than Joe Wurzelbacher? You be the judge, as I share some of the wit and wisdom of “Judy Berman,” along with my own rebuttals.

— There’s just something pathetic about the idea that sex appeal is something you can go out and purchase, whether the cash you’re shelling out is for breast implants or a $372 pair of riding boots.

Most of the stuff I post about isn’t expensive. That’s because so many of the people who submit stories to me are total cheapskates who only get clothes when a friend gives something away, or their old roommate leaves it at their place by mistake. I did a poll on this back in September, and almost 75 percent of my readers reported they were shopping at cheap places, or not at all. However, most of what this “Berman” has to say is really about my the post “This Is a Public Service Announcement — With Vaginas!” that I linked to above. Therefore, I suspect this modern-day Carl Bernstein did not read very many of my posts.

More importantly, people who are self-righteous about how little they spend on clothes have got to go. Saving up to buy something lovely and durable will build character.

Also, it’s helpful to me to hunt for products online and then post pictures of them, because it is a sort of “virtual shopping,” and staunches some of my raging desire to buy new items. It’s less like “retail porn,” more like retail methadone.

Never mind that a recession seems like a particularly inappropriate moment to push the idea that consumerism leads to fulfillment.

Well, in all fairness, I started this website in July, and unlike the far-seeing humanists who were running the country at the time, I did not predict that the stock market was going to crash. When that happened, I was like “LOL, now I’ll never get a book deal.”

At the heart of what bugs me about the Clothes That Got Me Laid is the lip service it pays to third-wave feminism.

I tried to come up with a clever zinger about this; I was going to be like “I paid lip service to your MOM last night!” Then I said to myself, “no, that doesn’t really work.” But I showed the article to my colleague in the English department, and she said “I think this woman is engaged in a strong misreading.” That’s like the harshest snap of all time, so I felt better.

Could someone remind me again what those three things have to do with decking yourself out in other people’s outfits because you don’t have the confidence to snag a bed buddy all by your cute, smart, witty self?

I encourage my readers to come up with their own fun, interesting outfits, just like the folks who write in to me have done. Judging from the e-mails I get, my readers are creative people, and they’re also talented writers.

***** Extra bonus misconception:***** Dudes who are like “men don’t care what you wear, they just want to see you naked.”

I know that’s not true, and here’s how. I have a referral log thingy that tells me what search terms people use to find this website. The most popular search terms that show up are variations on “knee socks sex” and “fucking in thigh boots story.” People are also looking for pics of women in wet dresses, underwear, and t-shirts. If men did not notice, care about or register clothes, they would not want women to be embellished in any way. If all these would-be masturbators cared about was seeing naked women, they could simply perform an internet search on “porn”; something would probably come up.

I’ll close with a video for my favorite song of the moment. It’s Darryl Hall and John Oates in 1976. They were some of the best-looking guys and best singers around, so they had no reason to doubt their cute, smart, witty selves. Hall, in particular, never seemed to lack confidence (seriously, have you ever read an interview with that dude? So cocky). He could have worn any old thing to this concert, but instead, he has availed himself of the classic hot-girl combination of knee boots over skinny jeans. It looks great! Do you think he got laid that night?